Day 109

Today was a hard day. Bill wasn’t feeling well. He started the day with a terrible cough: the kind that frightens me despite all my positive self-talk. I had tasks to attend to and papers to grade. It was 4:00 p.m. by the time I marked the last item off my list. I made a commitment a few days ago to go to my favorite coffee shop and write each day this week. Here I was, day 2 and already my motivation was waning. Somehow I did manage to get myself on my bike with my netbook stashed in the basket and headed for Bucer’s. By the time I reached downtown, I was certain that I would write today. I order a cup of Earl Grey and settled in my favorite spot. Surely it was a good omen: my table was empty, just waiting for me to fill the space and begin writing. First I sat for 10 minutes, just paying attention. There were college kids making too much noise, as a blender whirred in the background. Still I managed to sink down to that place of detached awareness. I was ready for inspiration. I sat the timer and began to write. I managed to compose sentences and string them together but later when I went back to read them they were flat and dull. I was frustrated with the futility of the whole situation. It took such effort just to get myself here only to find that my writing sucks. No wonder so many writers drink.